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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24874657">Pillow Thoughts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hetalian/pseuds/Hetalian'>Hetalian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hetalia: Axis Powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Not much really, just a short thing, like a little headcanon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:14:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>754</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24874657</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hetalian/pseuds/Hetalian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After another one night stand, Feliciano contemplates his life under the stars.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Pillow Thoughts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>heyo im back<br/>this one i debated if i was even gonna post it or not just cause its super short and imo not that great<br/>but I decided to post it anyways shrugs</p><p>I have a lot of thoughts and I mean a LOT of thoughts on Feli as a character (maybe too many thoughts hahaha) one hc i very much believe is that feli is low key bit of a slut. most of the fandom normally sticks him under the soft uwu virgin from what i can tell and that's fine each to their own but i see him differently ig</p><p>Italy is an old country and feli is old as well. he's been through a lot and i think there's more going on in his head than pasta and pretty girls but that's just my opinion lol maybe one day ill write a full lengthy fic about this kinda stuff cause i really do have so many thoughts but for now this is all i got lol</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Stories like this often start with “he felt gross”. But this was not the case here. Feliciano did not feel gross. He felt wanted. He felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>craved</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her hands grabbing at him and her voice begging for </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Today he was on top. He was fine with that. She was human so there was a high likelihood their arrangement would be short-lived. At least, in Feliciano’s eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She fell asleep fast. That was alright. Feli didn’t feel like talking that night. Instead, he sat up, the blanket pooled at his waist. He looked out the window in a quiet moment of stillness. It was rare. His life was always full of things happening. He was always full of so much energy and life. But even he had his moments. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feliciano felt good. He felt the afterglow. He felt attractive and admired if the smile on his partner’s blissed-out sleeping face was to say anything. He needed this feeling. When Ludwig was away. When Lovino and he were not on the best momentary terms. When he felt alone and quiet. When his mind dived into emotions and thoughts that he didn’t need to envelop him. He found his fifteen minutes of fame in the arms of strangers. Sometimes even acquaintances who would have a hard time looking at him at the next world meeting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was an unspoken understanding. The majority of them, even the most sophisticated ones or who would seem least interested, all somehow found themselves in the group of ‘been there done that’. Some more than once. No one judged him for it. They were inhuman, borderline immortal. If someone among their ranks decided to spend their time like that, who were they to judge? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But no one really knew. The reasonings. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why</span>
  </em>
  <span> this seemingly innocent and sweet country was fuck first, date never. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was an item. He was a prize. He needed attention. He needed attention and attraction. Validation and acceptance. Otherwise, he would sit on the shelf and collect dust. Wasn’t that how this went? When the trophy is no longer admired it was left with layers of dust, dulling their shine at best. At worst they were put away in storage; forgettable, alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feliciano bent over his partner and gave a gentle kiss to her forehead, leaving his number for her to call. Maybe he was a fuck and walk but at least he did his best to be a gentleman. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dressed in a quick moment and walked out, locking her door behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once on the street, he pulled up his coat collar to shield himself from the cold breeze of the cool autumn night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mind was racing in a way he dreaded. The sex was supposed to stop these thoughts. Why was tonight different? He hoped this wouldn’t be a constant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thought about the others. How people saw him. It was always the same. North Italy was beautiful. It’s art, land, people, food, all beautiful and coveted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why would Feliciano Vargas be any different? He was beautiful. He knew he was. He knew people were attracted to him and wanted him. That was fine by him. What was he worth if not wanted by others? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even then. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feliciano stopped walking. He looked up at the sky above him. The lights lining the streets make the stars harder to see. They didn’t shine as bright that night. Maybe it was because he didn’t feel very shiny either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even then there was always someone. Yes, he wanted his land. Yes, he wanted his body. But he wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He wanted Feliciano’s heart. Maybe it was a childish dream. A fleeting moment of innocence and purity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he was to come back today would things be the same? Could Feliciano feel like he did as a young country? Not wanted. Not coveted. Something else. Something sweeter. Something innocent and passionate. Not sending themselves into war passionate but sending themselves into his arms. Something that didn’t need to be paraded and flaunted about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was ridiculous. A stupid wish. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A tear fell down Feliciano’s cheeks as he realized he had been standing looking at the stars for much too long. He could catch a cold. Yet. He couldn’t get himself to walk forward. He only kept crying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Would he be staring at the same stars this night? Lost somewhere in some stupid war that continued to keep them separated. How cliché. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Italy was beautiful even alone. Italy was beautiful even through vision blurred with tears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feliciano smiled. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thanks for reading i would love to hear your thoughts any comments are loved and wanted also you can follow me on Tumblr and twitter @feliciohno come say hi lol</p></blockquote></div></div>
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